Page 7 of A Baby For Her Billionaire BFF

CHAPTER 4

NORA

The morning light streams through the thin curtains, casting a gentle glow on the walls of my dorm room. It’s graduation day — a day that should be filled with joy and celebration. Yet, as I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, my heart is heavier than it’s ever been.

It’s a whole month since Ollie and I last sat huddled together over textbooks, our laughter mingling with the rustle of pages. Despite the pride swelling within me for reaching this milestone, there’s an ache for the connection we’ve lost.

Dragging myself out of bed, I dress in silence. The ceremonial gown feels foreign against my skin, like a costume meant for someone else. Someone eager to embrace what’s next. I’m supposed to be that person too, but it’s hard when part of me longs for what I’m leaving behind.

I make my way across campus, passing familiar sights for perhaps the last time. The library where Ollie and I would study for hours, the coffee shop where we’d fuel our late-night cramming sessions with caffeine and whispered jokes. Each step feels like a small goodbye, a release of memories into the ether of my past.

The graduation ceremony is a blur of names and faces. I clap mechanically as my peers walk across the stage, their strides confident and sure. And then he’s there — Ollie. My breath catches as I watch him ascend the platform, every movement reminding me of what once was. The way his eyes would crinkle when he laughed, the warmth of his body when we shared a couch.

He looks different today, more mature somehow, as if the act of crossing this stage has already begun to change him. He receives his diploma with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and I wonder if he’s feeling the same mix of excitement and regret that churns inside me.

I force a smile, clapping along with the rest while trying to push down the truth. I still have feelings for him — feelings I’ve tried to bury beneath layers of denial and distance. But seeing him now, so close yet untouchable, those feelings surge back with a vengeance, threatening to overwhelm me.

More people come after Ollie, but they’re a blur of names and faces, none that I can commit to memory. Because none of them are him.

“Nora Ryder!”

I jerk in shock. Is it already my turn?

I rise from my seat, smoothing down the wrinkles of my robe as if they could flatten the tumult within me. Each step I take toward the stage is shaky. Is Oliver watching me? Is he also thinking about what we’ve lost?

“Congratulations, Nora,” Dean Harper says, her voice imbued with the pride and gravitas of the occasion.

The diploma she hands me feels like both an anchor and a sail — weighty with achievement yet promising new horizons. My fingers close around the leather-bound certificate, the vellum of my graduation scroll etching its reality onto my skin.

“Thank you,” I murmur, and my voice sounds distant even to my own ears.

There’s a swell of applause, faces blurring into a sea of admiration that should buoy me, but my gaze seeks out only one. The person I now can’t locate.

The ceremony wraps in a flourish of tradition and tossed caps. We are no longer students; we’re graduates, alumni, adults stepping into futures we’ve meticulously charted. And yet, amidst all the planning, there are variables we never accounted for.

There are hugs. Pictures with my parents. Small talk here and there. The whole time, I keep an eye out for Oliver. When I see him on the sun-drenched lawn, I can’t stop myself from running over.

“Ollie!” His name escapes my lips before I can corral it.

Our eyes lock. Time stretches thin between us, heavy with words unsaid and moments unlived.

“Hey, Nora.” His smile is tentative, a cautious ray of light breaking through overcast skies. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been… good.” I suck in a breath. “Actually, that’s not true. I’ve missed you. I’m sorry about what happened at the party. I never should have… You’re my friend. Nothing else. I was drinking, and?—”

“I miss you, too.”

“Really?”

A grin breaks across his face. “Yes. A ton. And I’ve missed our study sessions.”

“Me too,” I confess, the admission floating between us, delicate yet laden with meaning. “They were… more than just study sessions to me.”

“Yeah.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks away. When he meets my eyes again, there’s a resolve there, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity that has always drawn us together. “I’ll be staying here for grad school. Found a part-time job too. Chicago won’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Seattle for me. Law school,” I say, a hint of wistfulness threading through my words. “It’s going to be strange not having you around.”

“Tell me about it.” He laughs, but it’s a sound that doesn’t quite ring true. “But hey, we made it through college. We can handle a couple of cities apart, right?”

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